Someone Is Going To Regret It

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In the late morning of this very hot Summer’s day, Jackie drove me to Mudeford Quay. This was the first occasion since my surgery on which I squeezed myself into the car without having been forced to do so by a medical appointment. My Chauffeuse Extraordinaire drove very slowly around the quay and the harbour, stopping on occasion for me to photograph a subject through the passenger seat window.

Boats and buoys, Isle of Wight

Departing boats and stationary buoys shimmered on the waves as we arrived;

Man watching sea and shading eyes

one gentleman shaded his eyes as, perched on his bag, he watched the activity.

Fishing was undertaken from the quay and from the spit opposite.

Boats and swans

Leaving the quay, we cruised along the harbour where swans paddled past moored boats

Swans, sailboarder, black-headed gull

and a skimming sailboarder.

Black-headed gulls

Squawking black-headed gulls strutted about

Dinghies parked

beside the dinghy park;

Sailboarder

and the sailboarder came into clearer view.

A little dog trotting beside its master paused and urged its mistress to keep up.

I wondered whether two women on a bench were aware that another pair was about to pass in front of them.

We diverted to Avon Beach where I disembarked and leant against the sea wall watching a small boy smoothing a log on the sand. He, and a couple in chairs nearer the shore were oblivious of each other.

Already, well before noon, the beach was filling up with sun-seekers settling into chairs or lying on the sand with varying degrees of protection. Some would undoubtedly regret the exposure tomorrow.

Man, boy, and crossword solver

While one gentleman and a boy engaged in bucket and spade activity, another grappled with a crossword.

This evening we dined on pepperoni pizza and plentiful salad.

Shanklin

It was on 3rd November last year that I featured two large format photographic prints of a holiday to Shanklin in September 1968. Today, in my trawl through my colour slides for posterity, I reached the batch from which these were extracted, and scanned a dozen.Sun on wet sand 9.68Derrick's shadow 9.68Shirley's feet  9.68

Fun on the sun-kissed sand included me plying my camera; and Shirley substituting golden granules for flip-flops. I don’t remember whether anyone tickled her feet with the feather. Judging by the amount of sand scuffed up, it is of course possible. Incidentally, I just cannot get on with that style of sandal, expected to cling to one’s feet by means of a single post planted between the big toes and those next to them. I find them most uncomfortable. And I can’t keep them on.Jackie and Michael 9.68 001Jackie and Michael 9.68 003Michael 9.68 001Michael 9.68 002

The most delight of all was, of course, taken by Jackie and Michael, doing what has to be done with bucket and spade. The expression of my buried son doesn’t really indicate distress, given that the interment was at his request. He was hamming up a bit, because the following cheeky grin is far more reflective of his mood.Jackie and Michael 9.68 002

They also had a paddle in the sea, the other side of which possibly threw shingle up onto Hordle beach, which I have photographed on numerous occasions almost half a century on.Eyes 9.68

We visited other places on the island, such a Blackgang Chine, a scary tourist attraction featuring a ghost train running past enormous eyes that peered out of the darkness.Michael 9.68 003

I’m not sure where was the model village that Michael explored.

Who would have dreamed, in those far off days that Jackie and I would one day be living just a mile away from a clear view of the Isle of Wight which we had once explored?

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious sausage casserole; crisp carrots, brussels, and cauliflower; and creamy mashed potato. Dessert was cherry crumble and custard. I drankChateau Clos Renon Bordeaux Superieur 2012, and Jackie didn’t.